


thus do I pine and surfeit day by day

by Nakimochiku



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 08:22:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11642649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nakimochiku/pseuds/Nakimochiku
Summary: Gojyo has the rangy , underfed look of a lone wolf. And Hakkai is determined to change that.





	thus do I pine and surfeit day by day

**Author's Note:**

> not sure if this is pre slash or just slash slash but? it's fine. Takes place immediately post Be There. Title stolen from Shakespeare's Sonnet 75.

Gojyo has the rangy underfed look of a lone wolf, a creature that has been surviving on its own so long it has long forgotten the comforts and pleasures of domestication.

Hakkai smiles to himself as Gojyo shoves the door open for him, and thinks it's rather unfair of him to think so. But that doesn't diminish the hollowness of Gojyo’s cheeks and the sharp angles of all his joints, the shadows of his ribs when he raises his arms to take off his shirt and the exaggerated dips of his pelvis where his pants fall too low.

The cupboards are in the same sorry state he remembers them. There is a bag of rice and tinned coffee in one corner. The rest of the shelf is bare and dusty. In the fridge, there is a single carton of eggs and several cases of beer. “As thanks for letting me live here, I don't mind doing the cooking from now on.” He says, and smiles, remembering slightly burnt starchy rice and watery coffee and sometimes, a boiled egg while he was recovering.

Gojyo shrugs and grins at him, kicking the door shut. “Sure. Knock yourself out.”

 

*

Gojyo follows him to market like a faithful shadow. He carries the grocery basket and flirts with the vendor, but takes no particular interest in what Hakkai inspects. His only complaint is that Hakkai seems to spend a lot of money on things he won't eat. Jars of fruit preserves clink beside fish steaks and bundles of fresh herbs and one bright yellow lemon. He wrinkles his nose when Hakkai inspects a cabbage. “What do you like to eat, Gojyo?” Hakkai asks.

“Beer.” He says, and smirks. When Hakkai keeps looking at him, the smirk fades, and he shrugs. The jars clink again. Hakkai presses a fee coins into the vendor’s hand and drops the cabbage into the basket. “Dunno, whatever’s around I guess. Can’t cook too good. Eat a lot of rice.”

“Do you like your rice any particular way?” Gojyo squints at him incomprehensibly. “Fried, boiled, done in the western style with broth and wine, they call it risotto.”

Gojyo whistles. “Sounds interesting. Where d’ya pick up all this info?”

Hakkai just chuckles. “Here and there.”

 

*

He prepares the ingredients for risotto at the kitchen table so Gojyo can watch. He seems fascinated with the quick work his fingers make of the mushrooms, letting his chin rest against his forearm, slouching on the table. He looks strange with his hair so short, not nearly as fae and wild. The hollowness of his cheeks seems even sharper without his hair to soften his features.

“You like cooking and stuff, huh?” Gojyo asks after a moment, sitting up to flick out a cigarette.

“Of course,” Hakkai smiles. “A good meal is important for both mental and physical health. Cooking is an art form in it’s own way.”

“Never thought of it that way,” Gojyo murmurs. He stands to follow when Hakkai carries the mushrooms to the stove, watches him stir the rice in its broth and wine mixture. He doesn't explain how he thought of it, but he takes over stirring when Hakkai asks him to while he gets a pan for the mushrooms and starts to grate the cheese. “Smells good,” he says at last, a small concession in a war he doesn't know Hakkai is fighting.

 

*

They discover Gojyo’s preferences together. He hates eggplants. He loves cherries. Dessert is almost finished before dinner is on the table. His love for sweets knows no bounds.

“This is great, what do you call this?” Gojyo asks between mouthfuls, scarfing down his third slice.

“Almond torte. It’s another western style food.” Hakkai watches with his chin propped against his fist, his own slice only half finished before him. He sips mostly on his tea and gladly slides his plate over when Gojyo makes eyes at it. “You have quite the sweet tooth, hm?” He smiles.

“Can’t help it, it's delicious.” There is a dollop of heavy whipping cream at the corner of his mouth. Hakkai reaches over and wipes it away. his lips are soft, a little damp, an alluring pink colour. Gojyo goes still, but does not shake off his touch. Before he can pull back, Gojyo catches his wrists and flicks his tongue out over his thumb, licking away the cream. His eyes are hot.

Hakkai is gratified to discover Gojyo is capable of looking quite fae, even without his hair.

 

*

Potato peels fall into the trash can between Gojyo’s heels while Hakkai rinses and chops them. He is quick and sure with the knife, nothing clumsy about the way he presses with his thumbs and turns the potato over and over in his long fingers until it is bare and white.

“Had plenty of practice at this. Used to work in a diner way back.” It is a small tidbit of Gojyo’s past. For a man so open and easy, he is surprisingly tight fisted with his memories. Hakkai eagerly soaks up every detail. “Can't we just put ‘em in skins and all?”

“We could. But I don't like potato skins.” Hakkai replies easily, layering the potatoes in a dish he got from a second hand shop. The preheated oven makes the room hot and cozy.

“You? Don't like something?” Gojyo gapes exaggeratedly. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“I can't help it. They taste like dirt.” Gojyo laughs at him. Hakkai smiles back.

 

*

Gojyo returns in the wee hours of the morning. Hakkai is still awake, sitting at the kitchen table, unable to sleep without the house filled with Gojyo’s presence. His meal waits for him. He wobbles, still slightly tipsy to the kitchen table and flops down. He doesn't wait for Hakkai to offer to reheat his food, he just tears off the plastic wrap and digs in. There's sweet potato and stir fried vegetables in sesame oil and a thick slice of homemade bread. Hakkai gets up to get him a glass of water.

“You spoil me.” He grunts fondly, and smiles. He’s hazy and soft in his good mood, like a sated lion.

“You have the type of personality that makes people want to spoil you.” Hakkai says, as though that explains away his rapt devotion. Gojyo chuckles. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a small package wrapped in brown paper, pushing it across the table. “This is?” Hakkai starts, but Gojyo flaps a dismissive hand, so he tears it open.

It's a cookbook.

Gojyo grins, “guess you're a pretty spoil-able guy too, huh?” He looks like he thinks of saying something more, but he smiles vaguely and totters off to the couch to fall into it fully clothed.

 

*

“Gojyo, I'm going to the market. Do you want to come?” For a moment Gojyo buries his head deeper in the cushion, but he braves the sunlight to roll over enough to yawn and smack his lips at him. Eventually, he shakes his head, eyes still half shut. “Breakfast is on the table. Make sure you eat.”

Gojyo grunts. Hakkai sighs fondly, and moves away, only to be halted by a hand around the back of his knee. “Get more cherries?”

“Yes, alright. Anything else?” Even messy, half asleep and mostly hung over, there is something compelling about him. He is endearing, in a word. He tugs Hakkai's knee onto the edge of the couch, tugs again more insistently, until Hakkai leans down to him and he can curl his fingers into the short hairs at the back of Hakkai's neck, the scrape of his blunt nails sending a shiver down his spine. Their lips brush together shortly, chastely. His skin is sleep warm.

“Make pork dumplings for dinner.”

“As you wish.” Hakkai laughs shortly.

 

*

Since Hakkai came to live with Gojyo, there's been a steady increase in dishes. He purchases a wok, a new set of knives, dishes that match, a creamer. Gojyo grumbles and grudgingly helps him wash.

Since Hakkai came to live with Gojyo, the rest of the cupboards have been systematically cleaned, lined and filled, with flour and baking soda, olive oil and soup stock, canned peaches and chili powder. Gojyo grumbles and grudgingly carries the shopping bags.

Since Hakkai came to live with Gojyo, that hungry hollow look has abated. While still long and slim, he no longer looks so desperate and wild, filling out. He is lithe, rather than rangy. Its pleasing to see his joints softened, his thighs thick with corded muscle--

“See somethin’ ya like?” Gojyo winks, smirking. He cocks his hip for show. He looks good leaning against the sink, rinsing and drying the dishes.

Hakkai smiles pleasantly back. “You're a very attractive man.”

Gojyo blinks at him in surprise for a moment before tossing his head back to laugh. His teeth glint. He looks like a wolf, briefly domesticated. “You're a pretty frank guy, huh?” He laughs some more. “Right back at ya.”

Hakkai smiles and turns back to the dishes, scrubbing a stubborn spot. “What would you like for dinner tomorrow?”

“Some of that pudding again, that'd be great.”

“So deep fried snapper and stewed greens.” Gojyo makes a face at him and Hakkai chuckles easily back.

“Why’d you ask if you already made up your mind?”

“Now now,” Hakkai says, far too cheerful to be placating. “Take the fish out of the freezer for me please, Gojyo.”

“Yeah yeah, hold on a minute.”  He flicks water from his fingers and moves towards the fridge. “Can we still have pudding though? For dessert?” He tries his best to pout. Hakkai is certain that look has worked for him in the past.

It works now.

“Sure. But you have to come home early.”

Gojyo salutes him, cheeky and irreverent and fae. Hakkai smiles, gently, happily. He wants this easy peace of shared space and shared meals and shared breaths to go on forever.

He will find some way to ensure it does.


End file.
